Meet The Writers
by LucyCrewe11
Summary: It's an all-around bad day to be in a Narnia fanfic. Fed up, Peter decides he wants to meet the people who write the horrible stories he's often forced to star in. No...nothing bad could happen... Humor/spoof One-shot


**AN: I actually started writing this a while back (by which I mean probably a couple weeks or so ago) but never finished it until recently. This is not a serious story, it's just a spoof I came up with that I thought was kinda funny. I guess it can sort of be seen as a tie-in with my other fic, "Just Another bad Narnia fanfic" but since it doesn't make any direct references to it, it can be seen as a completely separate story as well. (oh and, Yes, if anyone's wondering-or just happens to notice-a couple of the scenes in this fanfic were inspired by scenes from the shows, "Boy meets world" and "What I like about you") **

It was a rather fussy sort of morning backstage at the fanfiction office, Narnia department, a Tuesday-or perhaps a Thursday, who can keep count?-to be exact.

Much of the Narnian cast was running late, including the two younger Pevensies and their cousin, Useless (we apologize for the mistake, apparently his name is _Eustace_).

Caspian and Ramandu's daughter were already there, however, and were standing by the breakfast buffet table trying to have a private conversation and ignore Peter, who as it happened, was standing less than two feet away shoveling down hash-browns like there was no tomorrow, and smacking his lips in a rather irritating fashion as he did so.

"But Caspian, I don't understand." Ramandu's daughter said flatly, sounding somewhere between upset and confused. "Why are you breaking up with me?"

Before Caspian could answer, Peter blurted out-with his mouth still half-full no less, "Because you cheated on him."

She crinkled her fair blond brow, wondering what on earth he was talking about. "No I didn't."

"You want to?" Peter offered, peering over at her with a hopeful grin.

"Stay out of this...you!" Caspian barked at him.

"Hey, just to warn you, if you're breaking up with her so you can go after Susan...don't bother." Peter told him, resting the palm of his hand on the edge of the table. "She's still going out with that Warren guy."

Caspian pulled out a copy of _The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis _and quickly flipped through it, looking more confused with each page he turned. "Who's Warren? Is he even in this fandom?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Well, sort of...movie-verse, anyway."

Caspian nodded. "Ah." Then he blinked and squinted hard at the high king wondering if he was trying to pull one over on him. "Wait a second, I don't remember any 'Warrens' in either of those movies!"

"It's just a name someone gave to that otherwise nameless geek who calls Susan 'Phyllis' all the time." Peter explained, picking a light-coloured hair off the shoulder of his tunic, already sort of bored with the conversation.

"I hate that guy!" Caspian frowned, pounding his hand on the table. "How could she chose him over _me_?"

"Well..." Ramandu's daughter cut in crossly. "You're annoying, you have really bad breath in the morning, your accent confuses people into thinking you're auditioning for a remake of _The Princess Bride_, and you stroll around with this weird overly-determined look on your face half the time."

"Well, yeah..." Caspian had to admit she was right but he still didn't see her point. "But my hair does _this_." he shook his head and his shoulder-length dark hair fell around him in slow motion.

"I'm telling you," Peter winked at Ramandu's daughter. "you can do _so _much better than him."

"Hey!" Caspian whined, scowling at them. "Knock it off! I still don't get why Susan would pick geek-boy over me!"

"Or me." Peter added unhelpfully.

"Wait, _you _like Susan?" Ramandu's daughter asked, taken slightly aback.

Peter paused for a moment and swayed his hand back and fourth uncertainly. "Eh..." Then, "Well _sometimes_, in fics where we're not related. AUs and 'one of us is actually adopted' sort of things."

"Yeah, well Susan/Peter is so over." Caspian said smugly, with his hands proudly planted on his hips. "It's all about Suspian now!"

"As if!" Peter rolled his eyes apathetically.

"Both of you need to shut up." Ramandu's daughter hissed at them, getting fed up.

"By the Lion!" Peter said, walking away. "I liked you so much better three seconds ago."

"That was so rude." Caspian huffed, glad to finally have a 'real' reason to break up with her. "you can't talk to my friend like that! I think we should break up."

"Last week you said Peter was an annoying lout and you wished a safe would drop on his head in whatever fanfiction he does next!" she protested.

"Jerk." Peter glared at him.

"I meant it in the nicest of ways!" Caspian lied.

"I'm going to see if Warren has a brother." Ramandu's daughter decided, sick to death of both Peter and Caspian by this point.

An hour later, Peter was dragged away to the main stage so he could star in the latest fanfic which according to the script he'd been handed, was called, _The Lion, the witch, and the wardrobe: The love story remix. _Without knowing why, he already had a bad feeling about it.

When he was pushed out onto a fake balcony that was supposedly part of Cair Paravel even though, unlike the one in the Narnia movie, it over-looked a _Romeo and Juliet _sort of flower garden instead of the eastern sea like it was supposed to, the feeling only got worse. Standing in front of him, holding a matching script (only hers was dyed Barbie-pink) was none other than Mary-sue herself.

She giggled and waved at him as he fought back a look of complete revulsion, praying this was only a one-shot and would be over soon.

Gulping and inhaling deeply, Peter opened his script and waited for the director's cue.

"Fanfic rehearsal, take one, action!" The director boomed into an enormous, headache-inducing megaphone.

Peter exhaled, counted back from ten in his mind, and looked to the script for the right words to say to Mary-sue. Clearing his throat, he started, "Oh, darling, isn't this wonderful? Now that I'm High King and you're...well whatever you are...because their were only four thrones..."

Weeping quietly (actually, it was loud enough to drone out an entire construction site), Mary-sue, without even looking down at the script (she had committed the whole moronic dialogue to memory) said, "Oh, I am nothing! I'm nobody even though I saved your life in battle three times and we shared such deep moments..." -body racking sobs- "I can never be anything because I'm actually not destined to be a queen!" -More sobs...shorter breaths-

Looking at her with an expression of complete confusion and disbelief, Peter was alerted by a slight cough from the director that it was his turn to speak.

Fumbling with his script and almost dropping it to the floor, Peter finally found his place and read, "Of course you are meant to be a queen! You can be _my_ queen..." (Gag! Peter thought to himself). "...for ever since you believed my little sister Lucy about the magic wardrobe when no one else would I have loved yo-" He stopped, slammed the script down onto the fake balcony floor, jumped on it a few times-wishing his boots were spiked so that they could do more damage to the horribly written story, and then turned to the director with an angry snarl sort of look on his face.

"We're doing this _again_?" Peter shrieked, his voice becoming much more high-pitched than usual. "How many times have we done this stupid plot? A thousand? How can I be such a good high king and still be such an idiot in every chapter?"

"Peter, please calm down." The director said soothingly, climbing out of his comfortable chair and putting and arm around Peter's shoulders reassuringly. "We've got great writers here."

"I want to meet these writers." Peter decided, stamping his foot. "It's about time someone talked them off this ledge!"

The director looked a little uncertain. "Well...all right...if you're really sure..."

"I am!" Peter shouted, stamping his foot again.

"Come along..." The director led Peter off-set over to a long table where a bunch of giggly preteen girls with acne, too much make-up, and notebooks that had, 'I love WM', 'I heart SK', and 'Mrs. Ben Barnes' scrawled all over the covers in glittery slightly-smudged gel pen ink.

"_These_ are the 'great writers' you were talking about?" Peter gaped at the director in pure disbelief.

"Oh, come on, they're not that bad. They're real girls with a real love for the Narnia fandom." The director defended them weakly as though he trying to convince himself at the same time.

"Oh yeah? Watch this." Peter raised an eyebrow at him and then turned back to the so-called writers. "Excuse me, how do you spell 'Aslan'?"

"A-S-I-N." One of the girls came up with squinting very hard.

"Not! It's A-S-L-E-N!" Another one blurted out.

"Don't believe her, William, it's A-S-S-L-...Um...Wait, I know this..." This girl started counting on her fingers as if she was stuck on a math problem.

"Not only can none of them spell 'Aslan' correctly, but they think my name is _William_!" Peter whisper-exclaimed to the director.

"His questions are too hard." whined the first girl who had tried to spell the Lion's name. "Why doesn't he ask something easier?"

"Did any of you actually _read_ the books?" Peter asked point-blank.

"Well..."

"I'm more of a girl of action."

"I was out of town."

"Reading books is against my beliefs."

"My friend read it _for _me."

"I saw the movie like six times!"

"Oh...kay..." Peter winced noticing that the girls were quickly loosing focus and proceeding to giggle-wave at him some more while they were speaking. "Can any of you actually tell me what the movies were even _about_?"

"Um..."

"I know!"

He nodded at that girl. "Explain it to me."

She grinned triumphantly. "It's about really hot guys with swords."

"Wow, if only C.S. Lewis were alive to meet you." Peter muttered under his breath.

She heard him and didn't pick up on the sarcasm (neither did any of the other girls because they were all convinced his was one of the most wonderful men on the surface of the earth and that his farts didn't stink like everyone else's).

Putting her hand to her heart, her now-misty eyes batted at him. "Thank you."

Walking away as the demented, dreamy-eyed 'writers' waved their arms at him like they were about to set sail on the Titanic, Peter muttered to himself, coming to one conclusion from all this. "Next time, I'm putting _Edmund _in a blond wig and making _him _play the high king and marry Mary-sue!"

**AN: So whatja think? Any good? Did you at least chuckle a little? Please review and tell me!**


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